


The Roads We Travel

by TheTurtleFromHell



Series: The Big S3 Fix-It [1]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23060926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTurtleFromHell/pseuds/TheTurtleFromHell
Summary: Hector is only just getting used to life in captivity before Isaac comes to his aid. But with his long awaited freedom comes a question... will he ever be able to find peace after his ordeal?
Relationships: Hector/Isaac Laforeze
Series: The Big S3 Fix-It [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657339
Comments: 26
Kudos: 149





	1. Prologue

There was no time to question the choices that got him here. Hector knew full well the choices he made, and now he had to choose ones that were going to get him out.

His teeth chattered in the cold cell, the freezing ‘bath’ he was given making it worse. He rubbed his arms silently, when he heard a faint sound to his left, just outside the cage door. Curious, he crawled closer, pressing his face against the bars.

“... borders that large won’t be easy to protect.”

He barely recognized the voice as the tall, warrior vampire from earlier. It seemed like there were vents, leading from wherever they were to the prison. At long last, a stroke of luck. He continued listening, trying the best he could to make out the words. One voice talked about how she would befriend him, lure him onto their side with promises of an easier life. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Then Carmilla laughed at the voice, “Like that time you found the spider with a broken leg, and spent the whole day searching the castle for a splint small enough to fix it?”

How funny, that almost sounded like something he would do… Which meant if he played his cards right, she could be tricked just like him.

So he waited for her to come down and play her game, formulating his moves in his head.

* * *

She came down a while later, with a basket of fruits. He purposefully acted defiant at first, not wanting to make anyone suspicious.

Then she asked, “What do _you_ want?”

Time for step one.

He was silent for a moment, before replying, “My pets…”

“Pets?” she echoed, sounding genuinely curious, “What kind of pets?”

“Undead ones,” he explained, “Ones that lived a hard life and such. I like to give them a second chance.”

She smiled softly, holding a hand to her chest like his words had struck her heart, “How kind of you.”

“Animals are good and pure.” he continued, “They’re not like you and I, there’s no malice in anything they do. That’s why I like them.”

She seemed to consider his words, before opening the cell door and slipping the basket inside.

“If you’re good for us, I’m sure Carmilla wouldn’t mind your pets.” she said as she shut the door, turning to walk away, “And that’s a promise, the time for lies has long passed.”

That’s what she thought, he smirked to himself as the prison door shut behind her.

* * *

After a few more similar visits, he was finally allowed to leave the prison and attend a meeting… be it with a leather collar and leash, but he was taking what he was getting.

He stayed silent most of the time as the sisters debated their plans. He held his tongue, remembering a time when he was younger and living under the roof of yet another cruel woman.

‘Children are like fish, they have no voices.’ his mother told him anytime he tried to speak. So he bided his time, waiting for the question he knew would be asked.

“... now that we have that settled, let’s get to the point of soldiers,” Carmilla said, finally looking at him, “Hector, how many soldiers do you think we’d require?”

He thought for a moment, crunching numbers in his head, “At least a thousand, and that’s just starting with the smaller villages.”

“And how long will it take you to forge them?” she presses.

“Depends,” he answers, “I’d recommend simple gargoyles, but supplies will be needed to make them.”

He remembered to never make it sound like _he_ was the one asking for something, otherwise he’d be blamed for the inconvenience.

“What sort of supplies are we talking about?” Morgana piped in.

“Crystals, herbs, and a tool to channel energy into.” he said, “I could make a list of the approximate numbers needed given the time.”

“This is ridiculous,” Striga sighed, placing a hand to her forehead, “This just keeps getting more and more complicated.”

“I agree.” Morgana nodded, “Carmilla, I think it may be time to consider cutting our losses.”

Carmilla wrinkled her nose, clearly displeased. Fortunately, Lenore spoke up, “Hector is offering us his skills, it is not his fault that the supplies he needs to work are not here.” she looked to him, “It’s a bump in the road, yes, but in the long run it will guarantee our success.”

The vampire lord sighed, pinching her brows, “Fine, yes.” she waved her hand as if shooing a pest, “Hector, go get started on that list.”

He nodded, remaining silent as Lenore took his leash and led him down the halls, “Thank you for taking my side.”

“I wasn’t taking your side,” she hummed, “Merely stating the facts. You were brought here without any consideration of what your work requires. That was Carmilla’s mistake, and she will deal with it.”

He chuckled at that, unable to hide his merriment at the thought of Carmilla’s suffering. He didn’t need to, as Lenore seemed to dislike her (even if it was only slightly), proven when she glanced back and joined in the giggling.

What made it funnier was that it was all a complete lie. Yes, Dracula had given him those supplies, and yes they made forging demons easier and made production go faster.

But they weren’t required.

His cell had improved in the last few weeks, being granted a cot and a writing desk. It was still a shithole, but an improved shithole.

He got to work on his list as the cell door was locked, trying to think about how to make it as long as possible without it being obvious that he was requesting more than what was needed.

* * *

“Hector.” a hushed voice whispered.

The forgemaster groaned, blinking wearily as he sat up. Lenore stood at the cell door, holding a small sack in her hands.

“You do realize it’s daylight, right?” he yawned as he threw his legs over the side of the cot and stood up, “We should both be asleep.”

“Oh come now, don’t be like that.” she pouted, “Come here, I have a present for you.”

Hector debated with himself for a moment, before sighing and walking over to the bars.

“Do you need supplies to resurrect a pet?” she asked.

He blinked, taken aback by the unexpected question, “What?”

She scoffed, “I said-”

“I heard what you said,” he cut her off, “But why would you need to know that.”

She simply smiled, “Hold out your hand, pet.”

Supposing he didn’t have much of a choice, he did as told and put his hand through the bar. She turns the bag upside down, and let the content fall into his hand.

It was a small calico kitten, with a missing tail and ear.

He stared at the tiny thing in disbelief, immediately cradling it to his chest, “...Why?”

“I made a promise, and I kept it.” she beamed, “Now, can you fix it up?”

He looked down at it, humming in thought, “It’s small, so it won’t require much… I just need something metal.”

She glanced around the room, walking to and grabbing a pair of shears, “Will this do?”

He nodded.

Lenore smiled, walking over and handing it to him, “Carmilla said the hammer you had at Castlevania was quite beautiful. I wish I could have seen it.”

He said nothing on the matter, about the fact that he missed his hammer dearly.

Instead he knelt down, placing the kitten gently on the ground and focusing. He struck the shears against each other, blue sparks flying through the air.

Lenore’s eyes widened in amazement as the sparks turned to flames, swirling and covering the kitten’s body, before they sank into the flesh. The kitten twitched, opening its eyes and mewing as it wobbled to its feet.

Lenore squealed, completely overwhelmed by it’s adorable little face, “How precious!” she smiled, scratching under its chin. She almost looked human, and he would have almost believed she was on his side…

“Wonderfully done, pet!”

If not for that, the way she always referred to him as ‘pet’ or ‘boy’. It was proof that he was never anything but a working animal to her, to any of them. Part of him wanted to grab her, slit her throat with the shears and watch the life drain from her eyes as she realized she had misjudged him.

But then there would be guards, and Carmilla to deal with. He’d lose everything he had worked so hard to gain up to this point. So he would wait, and hopefully there would be an opportunity. 

… hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (cover made by [adrian_kres](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrian_kres/pseuds/adrian_kres), go give them some love!!)


	2. Escape

“GET UP!”

Hector woke from his sound sleep with a start. Marie, the kitten, mewed unhappily as she tumbled off his chest. He quickly picked her up, holding her close.

Carmila slammed open the cage door, stomping inside. He barely had any time to register what was going on before the leash was clasped to his collar, pulling him to his feet and causing him to stumble. Marie fell from his arms, landing on her feet and darting off. He tries to call for her, but the collar is pulled tight against his throat. His hands shoot up to his neck, trying to get any sort of relief as he’s dragged out.

“Carmilla, stop it!” Lenore cries, “You’re going to choke him out!”

“Well then he better get a move on before Isaac’s demons devour us all!” she snaps back.

Hector thinks he certainly must be out of it from the lack of oxygen. Isaac? Here of all places?

“Come on,” Lenore said gently, pulling up to his feet.

In a split-second decision, Hector threw himself to the ground, imitating groans of pain the best he could muster. 

“Hector!” the red head gasped, kneeling by his side.

“I’m sorry…” he whimpered, clutching his stomach.

“God damn it, we don’t have time for this!” Carmilla shouted, pulling on the leash.

Lenore leapt to her feet, grabbing her arms and hissing, “Stop it! He’s obviously sick and you’re hurting him! He’s no use to us dead!”

“He’s no use for us if we’re all dead!” she spat, slapping her across the face. Lenore stumbled back, growling as she held her bleeding cheek.

Hector watched the fury of claws and teeth as the two fought, social grace abandoned for the primal battle. It quickly became clear Carmilla was the more experienced one. She pinned Lenore to the ground, raising a clawed hand to strike the finishing blow. Hector moved before he even thought about what he was doing, grabbing the shears from his pocket and-

It was over.

Carmilla, who had captured him, tortured him, whispered sweet nothings while doing it all… was gone, nothing but a pile of ash that lay scattered on the floor and across Lenore’s lap.

But whatever joy he was feeling was quickly crushed when Lenore grabbed his leash in one hand and his arm in the other, “I didn’t care much for her anyways,” she laughs, though it sounds more nervous than anything, “Come on, we have to leave now.”

She all but carried him out of the prison, leaving him now choice but to go along. He began to sob at the loss of his brief hopefulness, that one moment where he thought maybe he could make it out of this. Now everything he had done had gone to waste yet again.

“It’s alright, pet.” Lenore shushed, seemingly misunderstanding his tears. Whether by purpose or by cluelessness he didn’t know.

Suddenly, the door in front of them burst open, a large minotaur standing in the way of the exit. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lenore briefly look at him, before throwing him to the ground and running for her life. So much for being her favorite pet, he supposed.

The creature towered over him, its decaying breath burning his nose. He silently prayed to whatever higher power there may be that he would have a quick death (though he more than understood he didn’t deserve one), shutting his eyes as he accepted his fate.

He felt a giant hand wrap around him, his breath hitched as he expected to be crushed, perhaps ripped in two…

Instead, the creature slung him over his shoulder and began down the halls. He was more confused than grateful that he was alive as he turned his head as much as he could, trying to see past the beast’s giant head. Maybe it was taking him to the others as a shared meal? But then why be so careful with him?

Some hallways he recognized, others were too damaged to tell if he had been there or not. The journey felt like eternity, each minute adding onto the stress.

Finally, it pushed open a door and the cold air hit him like a slap to the face, causing a shiver to run through his entire body. The doors to the great hall had been smashed open, leaving it exposed to the mountain air.

The creature took a few more steps before picking him up and putting him down. He looked at the creature in confusion, trying to figure out what it wanted with-

“Hector?” a voice gasped behind him, one he never even dreamed of hearing again.

He stilled as if the mountain air had frozen him, almost too scared to turn around.

“Hector, is that you?”

He finally looked behind him, at the man he had never even dreamed of seeing again. Isaac wore the long black tunic he had worn back at the castle, albeit more worn. A cloak, white and heavy and held shut by a silver clasp with red tassels decorating it covered him, making Hector envious as he thought of how warm it must be.

“You’re here…” he whispered in disbelief, “I think I’ve finally gone mad…”

Isaac cocked a brow, “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s not possible,” he says, voice wavering, “You can’t be here because you were in the Castle when it disappeared, you were with him, and now he’s gone, and I thought you were gone too.” he continues, even as Isaac starts to close the distance between them, “So I must be mad, or maybe that creature really did kill me and this is my Hell. Is that why you’re here then, as a face from my past here to just torment and torture me? Then stop dawdling and do it! Do it for God’s sake I don’t care anymore, just-!”

Isaac grabbed him. He was prepared for anything, a dagger to the gut, a snapped neck, another beating…

Anything except for the embrace he was pulled into.

His eyes went wide in surprise, his body went stiff, his voice stuck in his throat. He wanted to ask so many things, like how, and why, and what was going to happen?

When he finally got his voice to work, it all went out the window as he broke down sobbing.

“It’s okay,” Isaac whispered in a gentle voice, one he had never heard before, “You’re free now.”

...Was he?


	3. Onwards

“We need to get out of here,” Isaac said in an urgent tone, “Before the portal closes, hurry!”

Once more, he found himself being dragged along as Isaac ran. Didn’t anyone know that he had two (mostly working) legs?

He brought him outside, where there was what could only be described as a hole, as if someone had torn reality and patched it with a piece of another place.

Every bone in his body tells him not to go through it, his gut screaming that he’ll either hit it like a rock wall or be harmed by whatever magic is keeping this thing open. 

Isaac brings him through it before he has time to process it.

As he passes through the barrier, it feels like he can’t breathe, his body tingling and buzzing with powerful magic.

It’s gone in the second they land on the other side, which seemed to be some sort of... library… in a tall tower?

“Come on.” Isaac says, walking out of the room (stepping over a few bodies as he does so). Hector rocks on his feet with uncertainty, then follows.

There were bodies everywhere, littering every room and step. Through the windows he could see countless more, all in piles, as if they were dropped from the sky. The ones on the ground looked as if they had splat on impact, while the ones on top were considerably less broken. Even though Hector was no stranger to the smell of decay, the sheer number of corpses overwhelmed his senses.

“What the Hell happened here?” Hector asked, covering his mouth and nose.

“Hm?” Isaac looked over his shoulder, “Oh, apparently there was a magician who was enslaving people under a spell and collecting them into some sort of giant orb of humans in the sky. But I killed him, so there’s no need to worry.

Hector stopped in his tracks, staring at his fellow forgemaster in disbelief, “...Isaac, what the actual fuck? You can’t just say things like that with zero context.”

“Is there any context that would make what I said make sense?”

Hector opened his mouth, then shut it.

Isaac chuckled, “Thought so.”

They continue down the steps for what feels like eternity. Isaac opens the front door, gaining the attention of a black unicorn that had been sitting in front of them. He smiled fondly at it, petting its snout. It shut its eyes, leaning into his touch.

“You never struck me as one to keep pets…” Hector comments, looking at the beast unsurely.

“It was very lonely on the road.” is all he says in reply, before climbing onto its back, “You coming?”

Hector looked between him and the unicorn, “Do I have a choice?”

Isaac glared at him, almost in disbelief of what he was hearing, “I’m sorry, you actually want to  _ stay _ in this shithole?

“No, I-” he took a deep breath, using every ounce of strength to not start sobbing in front of Isaac, “Just… please, let me know I have a choice…”

Isaac’s gaze softened, slightly frowning. He said nothing for a moment, a moment that felt too long, “... Would you like to come with me?”

“To where?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t pushing this too far.

“To the home of a fellow forgemaster,” he replied patiently, “She’s provided help to me before, so I know we can trust her.”

He thought for a second before nodding. Isaac reached out a hand, pulling him up and onto the unicorn’s back.

“Hang tight,” he said, before clicking his tongue twice. The unicorn whinnied, taking off like an arrow across the desecrated land. Hector wrapped his arms around Isaac’s chest, holding his own arms so tightly he thought there might be bruises. There was no saddle, and the beast moved more quickly than a normal horse so the chances of falling off were greatly increased.

...Still, there was something relaxing about it, he thought as he rocked back and forth. By no doing of his own, his eyes eventually slipped shut, body relaxing as he leaned against Isaac’s back.

* * *

“You’re back,” an unfamiliar voice says, causing him to snap his eyes open, “And you’ve brought your friend.”

The voice belonged to a woman, who looked to be in her sixties, dressed in a cloak and long dress. She stood in the door of her dilapidated home, although compared to the ruined houses around them it wasn’t so bad. Though faint, Hector could feel the aura of her magic radiating off of her.

“If you would be so kind Miranda, my friend and I need a place to spend the night,” Isaac said, pulling a pouch of coins from his belt, “I have the coin to pay you.”

The woman, Miranda, scoffed and rolled her eyes, “What sort of use is there for coins in this dump of a place?” she asked sarcastically, motioning to the destruction around her, “Just get your arses inside before you freeze out here. Your payment will be making me dinner, and that’s that.” and with that being said, she walked back inside.

Isaac and Hector exchanged a look, before shrugging.


	4. Together We Go

Isaac lifted the lid off the cauldron, peering inside at the contents, “It should be ready soon.” he says.

“Good, I’m famished.” Miranda says from her rocking chair, having brought it inside after their reunion, “Tell me, that boy-”

“Hector.” he says.

“Hector,” she repeats, “Is he a friend of yours?”

“I’m not sure that’s what he’d call us.” he admits. Why would he after being told ‘I don’t see the point in becoming friends’?

“I’m sure he appreciates the rescue, nonetheless.” the old woman shrugs, “I know I may sound like a muttering crazy lady, but we forgemasters must stick together, you know. Besides… I think the two of you may be closer than you realize.”

He squints in confusion, opening his mouth to ask what she means when Hector walks in and interrupts them.

“I put the horse- um, unicorn away.” he says, picking at his nails.

“Thank you.” Isaac says, not allowing an awkward silence to take hold.

Hector smiles at that, shutting the door behind him when Miranda suddenly speaks, “Good lord, is that seriously what they put you in?”

Hector blinked, looking down at his clothes. He had been so thankful to even have them that he hadn’t noticed that they were actually quite thin and worn.

“Come with me,” she said, beckoning him to follow, “I think I have something of my husband’s that might fit you.”

Across the room, Isaac’s eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise, “You never told me you had a husband.”

“You never asked.” she retorts as she walks into the back room. Hector follows her inside, glancing around with uncertainty. There’s a bed large enough for two people, a plain wooden chest at its foot. She flicks the lock open and rummages through it.

“Alright, this will do.” she says after a few moments, pulling out a beige tunic. The cuffs and hem are decorated with embroidered vines decorated with blue flowers, circling around like a wreath. She pulls out a pair of leather pants and boots to go with, handing the outfit over to him, “My husband was a bit fatter than you, so you might need a belt.”

“Thank you…” he says softly, cradling the articles of clothes in his arms like a coveted treasure, “Thank you so much.”

“Well, they weren’t doing any good sitting in a chest other than feeding the moths,” she paused, crossing her arms, “Hector, right? Do you know why vampires can’t learn forgemastering?” she asks.

“Because it requires a human touch.” Hector responds automatically, having been asked the same question in council many times.

“A human connection.” Miranda corrects, “So tell me, what do you think happens if the human connection is neglected?”

He pauses, suddenly feeling stupid that he hadn’t asked himself the same question long ago, “I… I don’t know.”

“I’ll tell you what happens,” she says as she turns and shuts the chest, all but slamming it, “Your full potential will never be reached, your magic will stop progressing and be unable to replenish itself. It will start to consume itself the more you use it, until the day it burns out you can no longer feel it within you.”

His eyes widen in horror at the notion, unable to imagine a life without his powers, without his magic flowing through his body. All he could think was that it would feel like a pit, a void within him that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

“Perhaps the two of you have built walls where there should have been bridges.” she pats his shoulder, “You ought to fix that.” she says before leaving and shutting the door behind her, leaving Hector to reflect on her words.

* * *

Even after he is dressed, he finds himself unable to open the door. His hand lingers on it, fingers aching to turn it but mind refusing to. He wonders if they would notice if he just climbed out the window and made a run for it. He didn’t even know why he wanted to do that after they’d been nothing but hospitable to him. 

‘Perhaps you’re just used to running,’ his own voice mocks in the back of his head, ‘You ran from your parents, you ran from humanity, you ran from Dracula, and you’re going to run away now like the coward you are.’

Finally his body decides to open the door, stepping out into the main room.

“Just in time.” Isaac says as he puts the final bowl down. Miranda had already begun to eat, unconcerned whether her guests would find it rude if she didn’t wait for them.

“Not too shabby, pretty forgemaster,” she teases, “A magician in the forge and the kitchen? Women should be falling all over you.”

“I wasn’t able to find any spices to cook with,” he says as he sits, “It’s too bland for my liking.”

“And yet, you eat it.” she points out as he takes a bite.

Isaac shrugs, “The taste doesn’t really matter if you think about it, it all winds up the same way.”

Hector laughs as he sits, because toilet humor at the table is just so unlike the Isaac he knows. He can’t wait to get to know this one better, he thinks to himself as he takes a bite...

Then he coughs as soon as it hits his tongue, blinking in surprise. Isaac had said there was barely any seasoning, why was the taste so overwhelming?

He coughs again, covering his mouth with his hand to stop the chewed food from flying onto the table.

Isaac looks at him with concern, “Are you alright?”

Hector nods, trying to force down the stew so that he can just say he swallowed wrong. It keeps stopping at the back of his throat, as if a dam had suddenly been put up. The familiar, sour taste of bile starts to rise from his stomach.

“Hect-?” is all Isaac manages to say, before Hector stands from his seat, knocking over his chair as he sprints out the door. He barely makes it past the threshold when he falls to his knees, the chewed food finally falling to the ground as he retches, vomit spilling from his mouth. It burned, it burned so bad that he thought sure it must be burning a throat in his esophagus.

When his stomach no longer had anything to empty itself with he nearly fell over face first into the mess, suddenly exhausted by the ordeal.

Two hands grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back just slightly rough.

“He’s pale,” Isaac observes, an edge of fret in his voice.

“Damn,” Miranda sighs under her breath, “Get out a bedroll for him, I’ll have to check and see if I’ve got anything for him.”

“Isaac…” he gasps, “I-I-”

“Don’t,” he says, helping him to his feet, “It’s alright.” 

There’s something akin to understanding in his eyes as he helps his fellow forgemaster back inside.

“Sit,” he says as he brings him over to a chair. Hector does so, whimpering as his empty stomach feels like it's twisting in on itself.

“I have some ginger ale, that should help you some,” Miranda said as she came in with a cup full of the stuff, “Try and take a few sips at a time, alright?”

What he meant to say was ‘thank you’, what actually ended up happening was that he broke down in tears.

In the few hours she knew him she offered more kindness than anyone else had his entire life. And Isaac, dear God had Isaac lost his mind? Was he plotting something? No, if he had wanted him dead, then he’d be dead at the fortress. Except maybe he was dead, maybe he was being taunted with what could have been, and any moment the curtains would raise and reveal the fires of Hell.

“Calm down before you make yourself sicker,” Miranda chided, but there was no bite behind the words.

It took a moment, but eventually Hector got his breathing under control, wiping the tears from his face with the hem of his sleeve.

“I’m okay…” he whispers in a hoarse voice.

Isaac simply hums in acknowledgement, “I think we out to turn in for the night.” he says.

“I agree,” Miranda says, walking to the master bedroom, “Not because of this whole mess, but because I’m an old lady and I don’t like staying up late.”

“Miranda?” Hector fidgets, “I… thank you, for your hospitality.”

She smiles back at him, “People like us ought to stick together.”

* * *

The room is silent, save for the sound of creaking, settling wood.

Hector slips in and out of sleep, too unsettled and overwhelmed to stay that way. He debates himself for a moment, before quietly calling out, “Isaac?”

“Mm, yeah?” he mumbled.

“Did Miranda tell you about the importance of humanity in forgemastering?”   
There was no answer for a moment, “What do you mean?”

“She told me that forgemasters require human connection.”

“Of course,” Isaac sighs, “You know that’s why only humans can do it.”

“No, what I meant is that she said it is important for the forgemasters themselves to have human connections.” he explained, “Do you think she’s telling the truth?”

Isaac hummed in thought, “That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“I should have made the connection earlier,” he says, “My recent creations have all been diverse, more powerful and bigger than ever before… and it started when I began to have more… pleasant interactions with my fellow humans.”

“Oh…” is all he says.

There’s another moment of silence.

“... it feels cruel to leave her here,” Hector said softly, “Knowing she’s one of us, that she’ll eventually be void of her magic if she stays…”

Isaac hums in thought, “Maybe she’s trying to tell us she wants to come with us.”

“You would allow that?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at him.

“I will ask her.” is all he says in reply. He could practically feel the man’s smile behind him. 

“Goodnight Hector.” he mutters before pulling the blankets tighter over himself,

“Goodnight.” he whispers back.

* * *

“You should come with us.” Hector says to her the next morning.

Isaac glares at him from the fireplace, with a look that told him to let him handle it from here. Hector shrinks a little.

“Is that what you think?” she hums unphased, placing some sort of herbal mix in her pipe.

“You’ve done nothing but talk to us about the importance of human company,” Isaac says as he takes the broth off the fire, “We took it to mean that you’d like some of that yourself.”

She laughs, striking a match and lighting her pipe, “I’m flattered, but I don’t think your unicorn will fit three people.”

“I can find a cart,” Isaac says, “There’s plenty of them abandoned here.”

“Oh really? You’d do that just for little old me?” she chuckles, “Tell me, where shall we go?”

Hector realizes he should have asked that question himself much earlier.

“I don’t know,” Isaac admits, “Someplace quiet I think. I’ve had enough excitement for the time being.” he pauses, “I’ve heard Lindenfield is a nice town, perhaps there.”

She stares at them in silence, taking a long drag from her pipe, “...Well, I suppose I have nothing better to do,” she sighs, “Give me a day to pack my things.”

Hector can’t help but beam with a smile so contagious, it brings one to Isaac’s face as well.

He wondered what sort of adventures might come of three forgemasters traveling across Europe. Hopefully nothing too troublesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of part 1!!  
> Next we'll be dealing with Alucard, Taka, and Sumi. By the way, all these stories will tie together, but you'll have to keep reading to find out how ;)

**Author's Note:**

> *rolls up sleeves* Making me fix everything my goddamn self, fucking Warren.


End file.
